Gabriel knows something is wrong. Just like Rushton he needs love, light, and laughter in his life. Unlike Rushton, he has yet to figure out why he can't meet his needs. It has been suggested to him that he is mentally ill. He sometimes presents as schizophrenic, at other times you would think he was suffering manic depression or some sort of personality disorder. None of this is true. But since Gabriel knows better than to tell on Louisa nobody knows why she is able to indoctrinate him with fear over and over again.



I only became aware of her Jedi mind tricks when she tried to pull it on me. Innocently telling me about how she used to want a fur coat until she saw a group of her friends at a function, dressed to kill, dripping in pearls, gold, diamonds and furs. She said they looked like witches. Now, Louisa is well aware that I own several furs. I like my jewelry. No status symbol for me, just a fun way of continuing the game of dress-up I played as a little girl rummaging through my grandmother's closets. Besides, I've never seen a witch wear a fur coat.



Another time I confided in her about the difficulty I was having casting dancers for Gabriel's show. Louisa went into a long diatribe about how and why I couldn't get it done. The show was due to open soon and I as the casting agent had failed her son by not providing him with dancers. I thanked her for her input all the while wondering why she did not refer me to any of the many accomplished people she claimed to know. I did find the dancers. Louisa did have a fit. How dare I give Gabriel something she wasn't sure she wanted him to have.



Jedi mind tricks, cult programming, and hypnosis can only work if you are able to bypass the critical thought process. While I claim no special immunity to these tactics, I'm not an easy mark. More intuitive than logical, anything that doesn't "feel" right to me immediately sets off an alarm. Red flags pop up everywhere, calling my immediate attention to the situation at hand. Adding insult to injury, Gabriel began to brag about how well I facilitated his every desire with amazing ease. Game, set, match.



Gabriel came home one day, livid that I had spit in his food. (paranoid schizophrenia) I was caught completely off guard. This is not the kind of thought that randomly occurs in a man's mind. Unless a woman puts it there. Besides, the level of intimacy we shared would make such a preposterous idea moot. I don't spit, I swallow. But Louisa would have no way of knowing that. Several days later he screamed that I was setting him up to fail. Later that same day he asked me to go out to a movie. (bipolar disorder) Why would he go out with a woman that was trying to destroy him? He claimed he would still treat me as "human" despite the fact that I was crazy. (personality disorder)

Gabriel once called me his shield. My love for him was fierce. Against any and all odds. Ordinarily soft spoken, I was ready to battle tooth and nail for him. Quietly, competently, or balls out if all else failed. I adored the man. And it showed. People often commented on my devotion to him. His mother could barely tolerate it. She continued inciting him to violence. I continued putting out the brush fires. Until that fateful night.

My King, my King...Gabriel is one of very few people who can get me to raise my voice in anger. Even still, I only raise my hand to clear and present danger. After a whole day of strumming my last nerve Gabriel pulled the straw that broke the camels back. All day he had been on that damned cell phone. Furtive conversations, texting, flashing it in my face. By the time we got into bed I was smouldering. One last comment and I hurled a drinking class across the room where it shattered against the closet door. My King shoved me out of bed on my ass. When he rushed over to pick me up I saw a look of utter confusion in his eyes. I now think he was as surprised as I was. Now we're both raging. I wanted to leave, he wanted me to go. I put a few things in a bag and told him to take me to a shelter. He put me in the car screaming about how I had disrespected his home. We ended the night clinging to opposite sides of the bed.

The following morning he told me I had to leave. I told him I would exercise my option and move back to California. I put a call in to my pastor who had previously counseled me about this relationship. Pastor advised me not to leave town. Maybe a brief "vacation" was in order, but I shouldn't leave just yet. I had to admit he was right. The show we had worked on was due to open in about ten days. I had to dig way down into myself to come up with the emotional strength and fortitude to finish it in a professional manner. I wasn't afraid of Gabriel, but he was getting scary. I bought new drinking glasses and continued doing what I had been doing in regards to the show. My name was on this thing.

After a few days Gabriel asked me if I was still leaving. I'm not so much leaving as being sent away. He reiterated. Get out, bitch. Later on he asked me to put the old furniture up for sale on Craig's List so we could redecorate the house. Now I'm really confused. I ain't taking no ass whippings from nobody, but I am not ready to walk out on the man I love when he obviously needs help. Maybe we should take a vacation together when the show closes?

Fool that I am, I asked him where he would like to go. I don't have a passport so we had to stay stateside. All available assets had been spent on the show. We used my credit card as usual. Again I wasn't paying attention. Gabriel had been on the same job for almost twelve years, owned his own home, car paid for, but my credit limit was roughly ten times greater than his. We always made major purchases for the house on my card. He always paid the bill in a timely manner. He was responsible it never occurred to me that he would default.